


Metamorphisis

by WobblieRabbit



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Depression, Hospitals, M/M, Recovery, genji struggles ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 01:24:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12097656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WobblieRabbit/pseuds/WobblieRabbit
Summary: After an attempt on his life, Genji struggles to cope to his new life. Residing in Overwatch Hospital, an intersection for a variety of colourful characters; Genji comes to catharsis.*Ok so I'm pretty much going to write as I go for this, and I appreciate any feedback or suggestions on where you think the story should go! Just a warning, but Genji does deal with some heavy stuff like anxiety and depression throughout this.





	Metamorphisis

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking of my fic! I'm still new to writing so any feedback would be greatly appreciated (＾ω＾). I'm also writing this as I go so any suggestions in the direction you want to the story to go I would really appreciate it ＼(^o^)／

Genji hated hospitals.

 

He hated the pristine white walls, he hated the lingering smell of antiseptic that wafted through the already chill air, and he hated the people shuffling between rooms and halls; faces filled with either hope or wrecked with despair. 

 

A long sigh escaped his lips as he readjusted his medical mask for what felt like the hundredth time; flinching when his fingers grazed the scarred skin underneath. To an outsider he might’ve looked suspicious; decked out in a jumpsuit, hoodie, gloves, and medical mask. He used to wear sunglasses too, but Dr. Ziegler had banned him from wearing them due to some complaints of a ‘dangerous looking fellow’ lurking around the hospital.

 

Only the soft brown of his eyes were visible to the public, and even they were rarely seen as he usually kept them downcast. Anyone would keep their heads down if they looked like him. The only people he allowed to see him uncovered was Dr. Ziegler, and his brother Hanzo. His father had tried to coax him out of his hoodie, but it had only ended with tears and bitter words. Since then, Sojiro hadn't visited, whether out of shame or frustration he didn't know  


 

“Genji!” a soft voice with a heavy Swedish accent called out. Turning around, he saw Dr. Ziegler wearing a perturbed expression on her face. “Where did you disappear to? You’re supposed to be in the recovery unit on the other side of the hospital.” Genji shrugged, “I decided to take a walk, it was too suffocating in my room.” 

 

A small frown graced her otherwise perfect features, “Genji, you cannot simply vanish whenever you feel like it. You must tell one of the staff before you leave, we’ve been over this.” Her manicured nails tapped against the medical chart she clung to her chest.  


 

Rolling his eyes, he replied, “I’m not a child; if I want to take a walk I will go on a walk.” She opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the beeping of her pager. Frowning, she fished it out of her lab coat and confirmed. “I have to go now, but please return to your room or the recovery area before I get back.”And like that she was gone in a blink, off saving people’s lives as usual.

 

Genji remained in the hallway for a few seconds, contemplating to follow her orders or not, but decided against having another what she called ‘rebellious episodes’, there was only so many lectures he could withstand from the kindhearted doctor. She had been his doctor since he came in through the emergency room, and now that the bandages were unwrapped most of their interactions were limited to small talk and well meant speeches.  


 

Weaving through the sick and worried crowds, he made it back to the recovery unit of the hospital in record time. His physiotherapist would be proud, sure he did disappear from time to time, but at least he was doing some form of exercise.  


 

The Recovery Unit was a warm place, having more colour than the rest of the hospital, with soft pinks, yellows, and browns gracing curtains and beds. There were people of all ages in the recovery unit, all coming and going, but none ever stayed as long as Genji did. He was one of the few people who lived in the Recovery Unit 24/7; when his wounds closed and the excruciating pain became more bearable he was actually sent home along with his brother but was sent back to the hospital after his therapist deemed him to unable to be 'left alone in an uncontrolled environment'.  


 

He breezed past rooms until he came upon his own, at least they gave him more comfortable living arrangements, the constant beep of his heart monitor and the IV shoved too far up his arm made his old room unbearable. He thought the absence of those noises would get him silence, something he was in rare supply of now. What he hadn't known was that he would still hear the shrill of the bomb exploding in his face; he would still hear the faint beat of music like he was dancing in the club with his friends. He didn't know the noises would haunt him, overpower him, _suffocate him_.  


Just as he was about to open the door he felt a hand grab his shoulder, “Genji! There you are, I was worried sick.” His brother, Hanzo, stood behind him with a worried expression.

 

“I’m fine anija, I just wanted to get some air.” Brushing his brothers hand off his shoulder, he continued into his room. He didn’t have to turn around to know that Hanzo had crossed his arms,“You’ve been ‘getting some air’ a lot lately.”. Genji sighed, “My room was getting suffocating so I just went out for a breather, I didn’t even leave the hospital.”

 

Flopping back onto his bed, he made a grab for his plush pachimari near his pillows. The doll was snatched by Hanzo who held it close to his chest, “If your room was getting suffocating you could have gone into the gardens, we have visiting Shambali monks that are helping residents.”

 

Genji rolled onto his side, facing Hanzo’s shiny new prosthetic legs.“I don’t a rats ass about the Shambali monks.”

 

Hanzo frowned, “Genji!” his remark earned him a soft slap on the back of the head.  


 

“What’s a bunch of spiritual meditating shit gonna do for me? No amount of meditating or self awakening journeys is gonna fix this.” Genji snapped, gesturing at his body.

 

Hanzo’s face softened, “Genji… I know this is difficult for you, but you have to come to terms with this eventually. You can’t hide behind surgical masks your entire life.” 

 

Genji raised a brow challengingly, “Wanna bet?”

 

Hanzo sat next to Genji and placed the pachimari between them, “Genji, you can’t live like this forever. Try seeing one of the monks, maybe they can help bring you closure.” 

Genji ran his fingers lightly over where Hanzo’s knees ended and his prosthetics began. “I don’t need closure. What I need is a time machine.” 

Hanzo sighed, “Like it or not, this is life now. I know you’re not happy with your current situation, I’m not either. But we both need to move on at some point, there’s no use in dwelling on the past now.”  Genji ceased his stroking, “Easy for you to say, you can still go out in public.”

 

Hanzo stiffened, his next words came out barely a whisper, “Could you please at least try?” His eyes were downcast, staring warily at where the cybernetics met the mesh of his knee.

 

Genji sighed, “Fine, whatever. I’ll get all zen and stuff, get in touch with my spirit and stuff.” 

 

The stiffness seeped out of Hanzo as he let out a small chuckle, “No need to go that far brother. Just try talking to one of them.”

 

Genji groaned internally, “Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Satisfied, Hanzo left the room with a small smile. Genji clutched his pachimari to his chest, he wasn’t actually gonna talk to any of the monks, but as long as Hanzo thought he was he would be able to live the next few weeks brother and doctor lecture free.

 

He knew that his brother worried about him, and so did Dr. Ziegler, but he was fine.Well, as fine as any horribly scarred monstrosity could be. He didn’t need any help, and he was pretty sure he didn’t need any spiritual mumbo jumbo.

 

He scoffed, monks, what good could they do for him?

 

**Author's Note:**

> You made it to the end! ﾟ*｡(･∀･)ﾟ*｡ If you could leave a comment for any feedback or suggestions for where you want the story to go I would really appreciate it!


End file.
